Lemonade
by deadtodd
Summary: It was yellow... Like a lemon.


**Grimmy:** _Looks like I might just be back! And by that I mean I think I'm over that whole being lazy and uninspired phase. :) I hope so. Anyways, this was inspired by a conversation with my nephew. We were talking about music and it turned out that he really liked rock music. So I popped in my Fall Out Boy CD and he went crazy. It surprised me because his dad, my older brother, only listens to rap. And not that mainstream stuff, he listens to complete TRASH/gutter music. Not only that but he blasts it all day downstairs and the speakers down there are just LOUD so I can hear it all the way in my room, UPSTAIRS on the other side of the house. _

_Anyways my nephew said something like, "MAN! This nigga is so COOL!" (Side note: If you're offended by that word you might want to leave now.) So naturally, I fell over laughing. I mean, I use the word everyday but I never knew that he knew it. XD He said he never heard me say it, which shocked me, and that he got it from his mom. Ugh, he learns a lot of 'things' to say from her. Just thought you all might be interested in the story behind this story._

_And of course, I don't own Hey Arnold!_

Helga frowned as she picked up the foam covered glass plate that she'd received from her older sister the last time she visited. There was a thin crack running down the middle and while she didn't really care for the ugly thing, she wasn't exactly fond of potentially broken dishes, especially ones that found their way into murky dish water. She glared at the yellow muck that slid slowly down the back of it, only to plop down into the dirty, bubble covered water. She turned away from the sight, gagging a few times, and silently thanked herself for remembering to pick up the rubber gloves that were currently protecting her hands from the foul water.

Someone hadn't been rinsing their dishes.

With a scowl she turned towards the open kitchen door and yelled, "Miles Shortman, you get down here this instant!"

The sound of feet pattering against the wooden floor could be heard and she suspected that either her youngest son or daughter had come to inspect just why their older sibling was in trouble again. Instead of one head poking in the doorway, two emerged and she figured that her two youngest children were on relatively good terms at the moment. Too irritated to actually pick up on it, she frowned at their mud covered faces. She arched a thin eyebrow at them.

"Robbie, Mir', you two weren't messing around in Daddy's greenhouse again were you?" she asked, already sure of the answer.

The two children shared a look before engaging in a conversation composed of their own made up words. With an annoyed sigh 'Mir' turned to her mother, not without shooting her brother a dirty look, and said, "Robert and I felt that we had to... explore the make up of the outside world."

Helga rolled her eyes, not bothering to be impressed with her daughter's carefully worded excuse. It seemed as if she 'enhanced' her vocabulary whenever there was a chance she might be in trouble, something her father still hadn't picked up on. It was only natural that she was a perfectly innocent baby girl in his eyes. "You were careful to avoid the strawberries right Robbie?" He wasn't breaking out in hives but she wanted to be sure.

He nodded and pressed his palms against his chubby cheeks, parting his lips to let out a long 'ooh' sound. "Miles is in troooouble."

She heard him before she saw him. "Shut up you little-"

"Miles!" Whatever he was going to say was bound to be some naughty word that the twins hadn't yet picked up on. A frown, more disappointed than angry, tugged at her lips as her oldest son came into view. He was walking around the house in nothing more than a pair shorts that were about two sizes too big and she made a mental note to scold him for that as well.

Miles looked up at his mother, slightly startled by her stern tone. Shifting his weight from one foot to another he bit into his lip nervously before asking, "Sumthin' up mom?" At the sight of her pointed glare he stood up straight and tried speaking again. "I mean... Is something wrong?"

She folded her arms across her chest and scowled. "You want to come and tell me what this," she nodded to the sink, "is?"

He walked over, a slight swagger showing in the way her walked, although to her it looked more like Abner Jr. decided to have have his way with his leg again, and looked into the sink. Almost instantly he leaned back and covered his mouth with his hand, not quite able to conseal his grin. With a nervous chuckle he said, "Ay, ma it's yella like a lemooon."

Helga blinked slowly and slapped her forehead, obviously not understanding what he was saying. "What the hel- er, heck, are you talking about?"

"You know, yella like a lemon. That song by my nigga Gucci!"

* * *

"You're kidding me! He didn't?" The obnoxious laughter started up again until one of the two men laughing actually fell out their chair.

"No, Gerald, I'm just making this all up because I have nothing better to do with my life. Yes I'm serious!" Helga said as she pulled him up off the floor. She frowned as she pulled a card from the deck, opting to place it back down on the table. With a huff she looked across the table to her husband. "You need to train your son, Arnold." When there was a hesitant giggle to her left she looked over, cutting her eyes.

"Sorry Helga. It's just so funny," was the reply her look recieved.

"Pheebs is right. That's the funniest thing I've heard since Mir' got stuck in the boys bathroom for an hour." Gerald picked up a card, took three out his hand to place them on the table, then placed another card on the face up pile next to the deck. "How is she doing anyways?"

"Oh fine, she's trying to get Robbie to join her in ruling the entire first grade. Don't know where she got an idea like that," Helga said with a snort.

"Really now?" Arnold said, raising an eyebrow as he peeked over the top of his cards. He glared at the deck, and instead of trying his luck he picked up a card off the face up pile before throwing out one of his previously owned ones.

Helga rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to say something, only to be interrupted by Phoebe. "So just what did you do to him?" She picked up Arnold's discarded card and placed it on Gerald's spread, smiling at the sound of Arnold's angry cry.

"Nothing too mean. Just, his mouth is going to smell like Palmolive, the orange kind, for a while." Laughter surrounded her once again and Helga smirked as she looked at her newly pulled card. "I win by the way," she said as she placed her hand down on the table.

**Grimmy:** _No actual closing notes, just, Palmolive taste terrible. Ugh, horrid experience there._


End file.
